


Breaking the Fast

by Sistermine



Series: The Threshold [2]
Category: Eagle - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sistermine/pseuds/Sistermine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow up to part 1 "Crossing the Threshold", which was about their accidental marriage. </p><p>This one has the porn (eventually).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking the Fast

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings except for Esca crying (that seems to be a thing for me)
> 
> Disclaimer: Fair use of characters only, no harm or disrespect intended
> 
> Inspired by a [picture of bread](http://s1271.photobucket.com/albums/jj636/sistermine6/Eagle%20fanfic/?action=view&current=riventhornbread.jpg) in the [Ninth Eagle LJ Fanfic challenge,](http://ninth-eagle.livejournal.com/154983.html) December 2011.  
> 

  
  
Marcus pushed aside the leather and entered the tiny hut.  
  
Esca followed, willing his heart to slow down, but his will was ineffective today, it seemed.  
  
Marcus was looking around in awe as he lit more of the small oil lights with a taper. The room took on a rosy glow, warm from the fire, and was almost filled with the large bed, still decorated with petals. “Ha!” he laughed, holding up a loaf from the shelf at his side and peering at the various bowls and jars arrayed there. “They are very good at celebrations.” He turned and looked at Esca.  
  
Esca found he couldn't meet Marcus's eyes, feeling his mouth dry up and his throat seize.  
  
This was ridiculous, Esca thought, chiding himself; he, once a warrior, had spent half the day close to tears yet no-one was threatened and no-one was hurt. On the contrary, they had successfully gained their hosts' trust, and their support for the journey tomorrow, and he didn't understand what was wrong with him.  
  
He was reluctant to sit on the bed, but there was little room for standing, and Marcus was crowding him. He held his ground, puzzled about what Marcus wanted, looking up finally into soft green eyes as Marcus brought a hand up to brush under his eye. He closed his eyes, and only then felt the hot spill of tears down both cheeks; heard Marcus's intake of breath, then Marcus was enfolding him.  
  
It was the hand taking off the wreath and petting his hair that broke him finally, tipping him over into sobs as Marcus shushed him, stroking his back. It was somehow so perfect and yet so far from perfect; so far from what he knew he could have. The sheer contrast drew more sobs from him as he felt his fate and its cruel humour – to be snatched from death and tied to this man in honour, to form a companionship forged in hardship and mutual jeopardy, to gain his freedom only when he could no longer use it; to be forever close, yet forever thwarted. He had been unmade today. Perhaps wearing the dress had forced the Gods' hands, broken his manhood.  
  
His breathing finally calmed and he began to think again, wondering how to explain his breakdown to his rational Roman. Marcus was wrapped around him, pressing his face against the top of Esca's head, and gently rocking them both in a soothing rhythm. Gods, this was agony. Esca swallowed and made to pull away, suddenly aware of the tears and snot on his face, which he wiped on his sleeve, twisting out of Marcus's embrace and putting space between them.  
  
Marcus was waiting; he could feel the gaze on him though he couldn't bear to look.  
  
“Esca.”  
  
He forced himself to look. Marcus's face was sympathetic, almost yearning.  
  
“Esca. Will you tell me what is in your heart that grieves you so?”  
  
Esca shook his head; felt his voice croaky as he answered, “I cannot speak of it.”  
  
Marcus turned away, the light glinting off the shiny leaves in his hair. “Then... sit, my friend and let me venture to tell you what is in mine.”  
  
Esca hesitated, struggling with the warring needs inside him; to comply, happily if wearily to hear Marcus gently affirm their friendship bond as he had done once or twice in difficult circumstances along this path, or to bolt, leave the hut, leave the village, and go and howl his pain into the surrounding trees.  
  
“Esca.”  
  
The one word pinned him here. He took his place on the bed, and took the cup proffered to him as Marcus sat beside him. Water. Sweet and cool.  
  
“I have tried to tell you what you mean to me; what we are to each other; my love for you. Brother.”  
  
Esca felt his heart curl up some more at this stating of his place. So, Marcus could read him; so be it. He would not cry any more tears over this.  
  
Marcus continued. “But I have been a coward. I have told you only of my admiration for your skills, my enjoyment of your company, and my respect for your honour. I must tell you the rest. This is shameful for me to say, but I think it is more shameful that I have not said it until now. Please let me say my piece, as I do not think if I stop that I can carry on again.”  
  
Marcus paused and turned slightly sideways to look at Esca, who felt his heart pick up at the scrutiny. “What I have not told you is my yearning for you to look upon me. I have not told you my desire for you to be beside me, in my arms, in my bed. What I said in that ceremony … I meant it. I have a deep need for you. I would be with you as a husband. My love for you is true.” Esca felt his stomach turn over.  
  
Then Marcus looked down, turning his own cup in his hands. “I was … I deliberately did not let myself appreciate what I felt -- until I had to say the words, out loud, in front of others. In my world, as you know, this is wrong, what I feel for you. But I cannot think that it is wrong, and now I must bear it anyway.” Esca held his breath as Marcus looked up again, questioning. “I think that you feel something for me. I do not know what it is, but I dare to hope, at least that you will not banish me from your side forever knowing what I think of you. I have confessed my love. If you find it shameful, then tell me so and I will never speak of it again. If you cannot bear the thought of me near you, I will leave as soon as we are beyond these boundaries, and instruct my uncle to settle your affairs with me and help you find your way.”  
  
Marcus faced him again. “There. I give you my life. What would you have me do with it?”  
  
“Marcus.” Esca felt the swell of something in his breast as he laid a hand on Marcus's shoulder. He put his other hand out to touch Marcus's cheek, seeing Marcus's wide-eyed look of hope that he was sure was a reflection of his own.  
  
**  
  
There was a faint light of dawn when he opened his eyes; sudden awareness of where he was and who he was with, entangled naked in this comfortable bed.  
  
“Good morning.” Marcus sounded amused.  
  
“Ugh.” His head ached and he was starving.  
  
Marcus laughed, moving the top covers back. The room was still warm but not as cosy as the bed.  
  
Esca burrowed back into the warmth, grunting, “What is wrong with you?”  
  
“I am happy to have my fierce warrior back.” Marcus laughed; “I was worried last night that you had been enchanted.” He winced when an elbow struck his ribs, as Esca said, “Do not mock me Roman. I have something you want and I am willing to withold it if you are not well-behaved.”  
  
“Already you are using a wife's wiles.” Again Marcus yelped as another blow landed. Esca said, “A wife would not be able to fight you and win - remember that when you are alone in your bed.”  
  
“Please, truce. Let us breakfast together.” Marcus leant up and reached over, bringing down some seeded bread and a bowl that contained oil. Esca's stomach rumbled and he reluctantly gathered himself into a sitting position. They broke off pieces of bread and dipped them, eating hungrily and drinking water.  
  
When the bread was finished Marcus pulled at another bowl, and brought it down between them. It had nuts and some kind of dried fruits in it. He ate one of the fruits and made an appreciative noise, then held one out, ready for Esca's mouth. As Esca opened his mouth to take the fruit from his fingers, their gazes caught. Esca chewed the fruit and swallowed, as Marcus watched him, then fed him another. Esca nipped at Marcus's fingers as he took it, and Marcus made a small noise, stroking Esca's stubbled cheek as he ate. He went to feed Esca another, but Esca stopped him. “Marcus.” Esca moved the bowl out of the way. “I do not want any more food.” He raised the cup and drank, then put that too out of the way alongside Marcus's cup.  
  
Esca turned and pushed Marcus's shoulder, pressing him down into the bedding, climbing onto him and leaning down to kiss him. They hadn't kissed much last night; too used to avoidance and too raw with the desire to touch. Now they could kiss as much as they wanted to. Esca felt drugged with the freedom to press their mouths together, to feel his way into Marcus's mouth and feel Marcus's tongue explore his own, unhurried and perfect, his hands holding Marcus in place, and Marcus's hands wandering slowly down his back.  
  
Marcus's hands held his buttocks and a finger traced down the cleft. He gripped Marcus more firmly between his knees as he felt Marcus tease, drawing the finger lower, down and round to his balls where they were pressed between them, then back up to circle his hole.  
  
Marcus held his hips and moved him slightly and he felt the firm press of Marcus's cock between his cheeks. He groaned involuntarily as he felt a flood of desire, and then Marcus was pulling back, breaking off their constant kisses to look at him, heavy-eyed.  
  
“Esca.” Marcus reached up for the bowl of oil and Esca jerked as he felt cold liquid trickle between his buttocks. Marcus smirked as he put the bowl down, dipping his fingers in it before pushing Esca to sit up. Marcus touched his oily fingertips to the top of Esca's cock and smoothed the oil round and down. Esca felt his lower body contract in response, and rocked his hips as Marcus's fingers played him, smoothing up and down then gripping firmly.  
  
He leant backwards to see better, and felt Marcus's cock again, pressing at his buttocks. With one hand to lean on behind him, he reached the other hand back and took hold. He pushed Marcus's cock into the groove between his cheeks, and the oil from his buttocks eased the way; tilting his body he felt the slip-slide of it. Marcus moaned and speeded up his movements on Esca's cock; Esca matched the motion on the head of Marcus's cock, watching Marcus go breathless beneath him.  
  
Esca could feel his body clenching, losing his ability to concentrate on touching Marcus as he surrendered to his own sensations; the stubby press at the sensitive skin in his cleft promising something darker, the sweet insistent firmness round his cock, and the sight of Marcus tipping his head back and closing his eyes, chest rapidly rising and falling, almost gone yet still managing to pull pleasure from Esca,  
  
Esca was lost; no finesse, just pressing Marcus's cock against himself. He went rigid and shouted out as his own body convulsed, penis sputtering to the movements of Marcus's hand.  
  
He felt Marcus smoothing his damp hair from his forehead; as his vision cleared Marcus pulled him down by the neck to kiss him, soft for a moment, then hard and demanding.  
  
Esca lifted his hips and wrapped his hand round Marcus's cock. Marcus arched upwards, almost unseating him, gasping. After a few firm strokes, Marcus was tensing, gritting out his name as if in agony. His body fell slack afterwards, but he pulled Esca down on top of him and held him as they both recovered.  
  
**  
  
“What now?” Marcus was asking him, wiping himself with a cloth.  
  
“We travel on, with an escort.” Esca was pulling on his tunic.  
  
“No, I meant...”  
  
“I know," Esca looked at Marcus. "But we cannot stay here; idyllic though it might seem, we have no purpose here.”  
  
“But can you bear to come back to a world where you are seen only as a former slave?”  
  
Esca took Marcus's hand. “Marcus, would you give up your life there for me? Your uncle is there, your history?”  
  
Marcus lifted their joined hands. “I cannot give this up. I have told you; my life is yours; I would go anywhere to be with you.”  
  
“Then, where?”  
  
“Well, I have wondered about Spain, and farming.”  
  
Esca felt the laugh bubble up and out before he could prevent it.  
  
Marcus looked hurt, and pouted, “I could be a farmer, with your help.”  
  
“Yes, you could, my love, you could." Esca nodded, pondering. "Horses perhaps, I have always wanted to keep horses.”  
  
Marcus grinned. “It is settled then. We will go and farm horses in Spain.”  
  
  
END


End file.
